Courtship
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: Dr. Turner and Bernadette are finally able to court one another.
1. Chapter 1

**I know I should have done another chapter of _Cannot Be Spoken _but I'm nervous about writing any more before the next episode, I don't know why. Any way, I wanted to write Dr. Turner and Bernadette in love, properly, openly in love, and courting. This may be a oneshot, or may not be, depending on various things; the most prominent being whether anyone wants any more. Also, I'm reluctant to given Bernadette another Christian name until we find out what it is in the show, so even if she's not a nun, I'm just going to call her Bernadette at the moment. **

He looked up happily as heard the sound of the door opening and saw her quickly descending the steps of Nonnatus House. She was watching her steps carefully to avoid tripping, looking down at her feet, biting her smiling lips a little in concentration as she did so. The dress she was wearing was an old one that Jenny had given her and it was a little on the long side, dropping past her knees, and fluttering behind her. The skirt was pale blue, and the jumper she wore on top was a darker blue- about the same colour as the habit she used to wear. Her hair- he had not quite found the word for its colour yet, but it was beautiful- lay loose over her shoulders. Reaching the bottom of the steps, she stopped and smiled, a little shyly, at him.

"Hello."

She could never regard her years in the convent as wasted ones- for the most part she had been very happy there-, and nor could he either. Without them she would not be the woman she was; the woman he loved. Even though her vows had kept them apart, they would never have met if she had not been at Nonnatus House. He could not be sorry.

"Hello, my dear," he replied, taking hold of her hands and gently kissing her cheek.

Upon leaving the order, which she had technically done this morning, it had been agreed that she would be living at Nonnatus House as a nurse until their wedding which they hoped would take place as soon as was convenient, perhaps in about a month's time. That lunchtime, when it had been deemed appropriate, he had telephoned to ask if he could take her out that evening.

This had caused great excitement, particularly among the young midwives, at Nonnatus House. It had been Trixie who had answered the telephone.

"Sister Bernadette has been not Sister Bernadette for all of five minutes, and there's already a suitor on the phone for her," she had announced to the house at large.

"Give it here," Bernadette told her, trying to sound stern and suppress a grin, running to the telephone before Sister Evangelina could get wind of what was going on.

"Are none of you meant to me working?" she asked pointedly, as Cynthia, Chummy and Jenny lined up before her, plainly waiting to hear what she was going to say.

"It's lunchtime," Trixie reminded her.

She was about to huff and protest when the arrival of Sister Julienne saved her by making her crowd of hangers-on disperse hurriedly, and she was able to explain to him in an amused but regulated voice, in case they had crept around the corner to listen, what had caused her delay.

He smiled at her, and shyly but happily she took his outstretched hand.

"Where would you like to go?" he asked her as they set off down the street and the time came nearer and nearer when they would have to choose a particular direction to head in.

"I don't know," she replied, "I've never been courted before."

"I've never courted anyone in Poplar before," he responded, "What would you say to going to get some fish and chips and eating them on a bench near the water?"

"Oh, yes," she replied, "That sounds wonderful. Chummy used to speak most highly of the fish and chip shop when PC Noakes used to call to take her out. They used to do that and then go to a film, and when she got back to Nonnatus House they'd sit her down at the table and make her tell them everything. Well," she amended, smiling a little bashfully, "We all did really."

"We could go to a film later too, if you like," he told her, "I'm sure there'll be something playing."

"I'd rather not," she told him, "If you don't mind. I'd rather be able to talk to you."

He smiled in return.

"There's nothing I'd like more, either," he replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, "We have a great deal to talk about. They won't all sit you down at the table and make you tell all too, will they?"

"I doubt it," she told him, "They think I'm too shy. And Sister Julienne has probably told them not to. But Trixie might still try. And," she added, almost giggling a little, remembering what had happened when she had hung up the phone, "Chummy offered to try and make Cubs last as long as possible tonight so that we could have an extra half an hour."

He laughed, and she did too. Her movements, more liberated without her habit and her veil, caught his eye and transfixed him for a second. She caught his eye and looked back, questioningly.

"You look very nice," he told her, "What you're wearing. You always look beautiful," he added a moment later as a qualifier, thinking how the blue of the jumper just caught the blue of her eyes.

"I wasn't sure what I should wear," she told him, "In the end, I let Cynthia in to help me. I'm glad you like it."

As she spoke they arrived at the fish and chip shop, joining the back of the queue, content to wait together silently.

"Will you let me take you shopping?" he asked her, as they arrived at a bench beside a particularly slow, still and quiet part of the canal, each holding a packet of fish and chips wrapped in newspaper, "Beautiful as you look, I don't much like the idea of you not owning any of your own clothes."

"You don't have to," she told him, gently.

"I want to," he told her earnestly, "I want to buy you beautiful clothes."

She smiled down at the fish and chips resting in her lap, and smiled, flushing a little under his admiring gaze, lingering over her face and the side of her neck.

"Eat your chips, Doctor," she told him, without looking at him, the hint of a laugh in her stern tone.

She heard him laugh beside her.

"Alright," he replied.

They ate in silence, watching the water go by slowly. It was a beautiful evening; there was weak London evening sunlight shining yellow over green ivy and over the tops of brick walls. The spot where they sat was on of the last to be submerged by the lengthening shadows as the evening closed in in earnest.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her when they had finished, "It must be a little strange. Today was on of the most important days of your life."

"I'm not sure," she replied, "I'm not used to it yet. It hardly feels different yet. Perhaps this means that I wasn't a particularly good nun," she conjectured lightly.

He laughed again.

"Somehow I doubt that," he told her, "Though I don't know enough to be able to comment."

They were quiet.

"I only know that I'm very happy to be here with you now," she told him, "And that I will be with you more."

"Ever so much more," he told her, "For the rest of our lives. If that's what you still want."

"Of course it is," she told him simply, and he had no reason to doubt her. Still she radiated a sense of honesty and goodness. He wondered if she would ever lose that, and doubted it.

"That's good," he replied.

They were quiet again, sitting back contentedly against the back of the bench. She was still watching the water, and he turned his to watch her in profile. She seemed to breath with the evening air. For someone who had just come back into the world at large, she looked remarkably well in it.

"You know," he told her quietly, in a level voice, "What you feel when you feel God, I think I may have found it."

She turned her head towards him, her lips parting in surprise at the suddenness of his comment; her eyes shining slightly, her brow furrowing in interest, willing him to explain.

"It's what I feel when I look at you," he told her, "What I feel when I'm with you."

She was quiet for a few seconds.

"That's called love," she told him, looking back out at the water.

Always, her intelligence, her under-stated wisdom, her insightfulness had been something he had noticed, but never before had it been so striking.

"Yes," he replied in a murmur, "I think it is."

She turned back to him, smiling warmly, and he extended his arm to wrap around her shoulders. She leant in towards his body and allowed him to draw him to her.

"I love you too," she told him quietly, resting her head against his shoulder, and he bowed his head, kissing the top of hers.

They stayed like that, her hand resting- cautiously at first, then more comfortably- on the centred of his chest. No one passed them by, and they were silent. Having whether so long in a staunch and silent denial of their feelings, it was blissful now, to be able to rest quietly together, having spoken their feelings for one another. They had their beauty now, and had managed to shake off pain.

"I want to buy you an engagement ring, too," he told her, quietly.

He half-expected her to protest again, but he thought he felt her smile against his chest.

"I'd like that," she replied, "I'd very much like to wear your ring."

It struck him that she was used to wearing a ring, and it would be a comfort to her to be able to wear one again.

"I think we will have to get back," he told her, as the shadows finally enveloped them, and darkness began gradually to fall, "I don't want to leave you," he told her, "But I wouldn't forgive myself if you caught cold."

"I'm alright," she told him, knowing that he was very cautious of her health after her spell in the Sanatorium, "I'm better. I'm not a bit more vulnerable to cold than you yourself are."

"Even so," he replied, and then in a slightly deeper voice, "I could stay with you forever."

"And I you," she replied, "But soon we'll be able to."

"Yes," he replied happily, getting up and offering his hand to help her up, revelling in the truth of what she said, "Yes."

**Please review if you have the time.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm so pleased you liked the first chapter; thank you for the reviews. **

"Hello," sitting on a chair by the wall looking out at the garden of Nonnatus House, he heard voice from the door and turned, smiling to see her, "Sister Julienne told me you were here."

"I thought I'd just drop in," he told her, "I'm not on call and nothing much seems to be happening today. I've told them at the surgery that they can reach me here if I'm needed. I thought I'd call in and see you."

"That was nice of you," she told him, bending forwards a little to kiss him quickly, and sitting down in the chair beside his.

"Are you alright out here?" he asked her, "We can go in if you like?"

"Why?" she asked, "It's a lovely day, it's very warm. Anyway," she added, "Out here, we'll be able to tell if we have any unwanted company."

She gave him quite a conspiratorial look, and it took him a moment to work out exactly what she meant.

"Oh," he cottoned on, "You mean spies?"

"Exactly," she replied, "It's almost impossible to keep a secret at Nonnatus House. As a nun you're not supposed to have any and as a nurse Trixie will get it out of you in a minute. If you want to have one you have to hide it properly."

He smiled, and was pleasantly surprised, a moment later, when he felt her- a little shyly- reach out and take hold of his hand in both of her, resting her fingers over his lightly. He looked up at her with a questioning smile.

"You," she told him, "You were my only secret."

"And did you hide me properly?" he asked her, curiously.

"For a while. Then Sister Monica Joan found me out."

He smiled properly this time, picking up her left hand in both of his, cradling it, gently folding her fingers out until her palm lay open and pressed a kiss into it. As he lifted his head, their eyes met, and this time they smiled about it. Carefully reclaiming her hand, she rested her palm for a moment against his cheek, very softly, as if she hardly dared to touch him.

"You know you two are quickly becoming really rather adorable."

They both jumped a little as they heard Chummy's voice; she was standing reasonably close to them and they had been completely oblivious to her approach.

"Hello, Chummy," Bernadette replied, shielding her eyes from the sun a little as she craned her neck to look up at her friend's considerable height, "Is anything the matter?"

"Sister Julienne asked me to tell you that she thinks you can probably go out if you want to," Chummy told them both, "There just doesn't seem to be any babies in Poplar who want to be born today, and it's a little while until the evening rounds."

"That is very kind of her," she replied, "But I was quite happy enough here."

"Yes, you looked jolly comfortable," Chummy remarked cheerfully, unable to keep herself from glancing at the way their hands had quite naturally fallen into one another again, even while talking, "No, no," she told them hurriedly, when they looked a little embarrassed, and made to separate their hands "I think it's lovely. Sister Evangelina," she told Dr. Turner, "Suggested that you might like to take Bernadette shopping for a little while. She said that it was about time. I'm sure that she didn't mean it to sound as rude as that."

"Yes, that's a point," he told her, "I still haven't taken you shopping yet. But I wanted to take you out to the West End."

"You definitely don't have to do that!" she told him firmly, "I don't need much."

"But I want you to have the best I can find for you," he told her.

"But you have a son to feed as well!" she replied, "And West End prices-..."

They broke off, aware that Chummy was watching them both with eyes bright and round as half crown pieces, shining rather alarmingly behind her glasses.

"Oh, don't mind me," she told them, "I'll just be off, only passing on a message. Do carry on!"

They watched her go with some considerable fondness.

"Do you think that was a real message?" he asked after a moment, "Or do you think Trixie sent her to find out what she could?"

"I think it was real enough," she told him, "I think Sister Julienne wants me to get used to going out and about; living in the world again. She means it kindly," she reflected a moment later, "I know she hasn't an unkind bone in her body. But it feels a bit like she's getting ready to get rid of me."

"But she knows you're still going to working here, doesn't she?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, "But she's used to having me all of the time, and now she's not going to. I know she thinks that next, when we have a baby, she won't have me at all. What's the matter?" she asked him, catching the look on his face.

"When we have a baby?" he asked her.

"I meant if," she corrected herself.

"Don't mean if," he told her, "Don't mean if unless you want to. You would like to, wouldn't you," he asked her a moment later, watching her face, "Have a baby?"

"Yes," she told him, "I would like that very much."

He smiled broadly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles and then kissing them swiftly.

"Sister Julienne doesn't want to lose you," he assured her flatly, "You're the best midwife in Poplar, I bet you'd give her a run for her money," he told her quietly, "If you did, I'd back you to win."

"What are you talking about?" she asked him, smiling at his rambling.

"I don't know," he told her grinning a little at his own stupidity, "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied.

"You'd be the best mother in the world," he told her quietly, "You're going to be the best mother in the world."

"Don't let anyone hear you say that," she told him, and then wryly, when he did not understand, "If they do they'll probably think we've got ahead of ourselves."

He laughed; he had never noticed before just quite how funny she was.

"You're wonderful," he told her quietly, "I can't believe you want to be with me."

"Well, I do," she replied; and it was really as simple as that.

"Come on," he told her, standing up suddenly, his air happily impulsive, extending his hand for her to take.

"Where are we going?" she asked, taking his hand and following him.

"To the West End," he replied, "There isn't time to go shopping for everything, but we've got enough time for this. I was going to wait until we went there to get everything, but I don't want to, it feels right now."

"Right for what?" she asked.

"I've reserved an engagement ring for you," he told her, "I want to see if you like it."

"Where?" she asked, a little warily.

He told her where.

"I was right!" she exclaimed, "Your son is going to have to go hungry for a good few months for a ring like that!"

"No he won't," he told her, "I made sure I could afford it. We're quite good at saving up, Timothy and I; there hasn't been anything big to spend on in years. We haven't had anything to be really happy about either," he confessed, "And now we have you."

"I don't think I can argue with that," she decided after a moment, and he squeezed her hand, giving her a triumphant smile.

"Come on," he repeated, leading her down the convent hall and out through the front door, "I think you'll like it."

"I'll love it," she replied very quietly, "Because it's from you."

**Please review if you have the time.**


	3. Chapter 3

"So are you both going to come to the dance on Saturday night?" Cynthia asked her kindly, as the young midwives sat around the kitchen table at Nonnatus House, late on Thursday night, waiting for Jenny and Sister Evangelina to return from delivering a baby.

"Of course they are," Trixie replied before Bernadette could quite get her mouth open, then turned to tell her, "You've got to, you've simply got to, you don't know what you're missing."

Ever since they had found out about the dance, on Monday, it had been a subject of excitement for the other girls and a source of mild anxiety for Bernadette.

"Bernadette, Dr. Turner, are you coming to the dance this Saturday?" Trixie had come bustling into the clinic kitchen, where they had been checking notes together, and posed the question with her usual excited determination that made such questions so very difficult to ignore.

She had opened her mouth to reply, not sure what on earth she was going to say, when he saved her.

"I hardly think now is the moment to discuss it," he had told Trixie, not unkindly, but in a level and firm tone, so that she shrugged in reply and did then get on with her work.

Once she had gone, with slight uncertainty he gave Bernadette the smallest of smiles, as if to say, "_I don't mind going if you want to go_" and then moved off back into the clinic too.

She caught his eye in the moment before he turned away and smiled back gratefully. But still she was undecided.

"I'm not sure," she told Trixie in reply, taking a sip of her Horlicks, "I've never been to a dance before."

"You don't say," Trixie replied pretending to be surprised, a gently sarcastic smile on her lips, "I thought you hardly missed a dance while you were a nun."

Bernadette could not help laughing a little at that, and both Chummy and Cynthia at the other side of the table guffawed appreciatively.

"If you've never been to one before, that's all the more reason you should go," Trixie concluded with certainty, looking at her with mock sternness, "You've got to make up for all the time you've been missing; and that's final."

"You don't have to go unless you would like to," Cynthia assured her kindly, "But I think you'd like it when you get there. I know Chummy did when we took her there that time with Peter."

"It never ceases to amaze me that he even thought about marrying me after that exhibition," Chummy informed her, while clearly beaming at the memory.

"Of course you'd like it," Trixie told her, "I saw the look on your face when we used to go out."

"What do you mean?" Bernadette asked, taken aback.

"You used to wonder what you were missing," Trixie told her, and Bernadette could tell now that however much she had been joking before, she was serious now, "When we were getting ready to go out, and we played records and all went piling out of the door-..."

"All dressed up to the nines, or in my case the ten and a halfs," Chummy supplied merrily.

There was quiet for a moment.

"Did you ever wonder what it would be like?" Cynthia asked her gently.

A single memory rose in her mind: in the newly-fallen quiet of the recently emptied Nonnatus House; walking the path from the front door to her bedroom; looking curiously into her mirror; taking her veil off and then her glasses, moving her hair over to the other shoulder. She could not lie.

"There were times," she replied softly, "When I would wonder."

"Well," Trixie decided for her, "Now's your chance to find out."

"Dr. Turner won't mind, will he?" Cynthia asked.

"Oh bother if he minds or not!" Trixie told her, "If you want to go, tell him!"

"Still, I should say that that kind of thing's not half the fun without one's own chap," Chummy conjectured, "And still less if you drag him there against his will."

Bernadette smiled; she had no doubt there was wisdom in what Chummy said.

"I think he thinks the company may be a little more youthful than what he's used to," she replied, "But I don't think he'll mind. I'm sure he won't."

"He has you to keep him young now," Trixie told her, "And that doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest."

…**...**

"So you told them we'd go?" he asked her, the following evening, in the sitting room at Nonnatus House, when she told him about the conversation and asked him if he was still free on Saturday evening.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked him by way of reply.

"Why would I mind if it makes you happy?" he enquired, "But I must make sure Timothy doesn't go getting any ideas," he joked, "He's far too young to be going out to dances, and I don't want him thinking that just because his father does it means that he has to."

She smiled a little at that remark.

"Why do you look so nervous?" he asked her.

"Do I?"

"Yes," he replied, "What's wrong? Don't you want to go?"

"No, I want to," she replied, "I do. They did talk me into it a bit, but I realise now, they were right. When I couldn't go, I always wanted to, I always wondered what it would be like. So now that I can find out it would be foolish not to."

"So what's the matter, then?" he pressed.

There was a moment's pause.

"I can't dance," she confessed.

"Not at all?" he asked in reply, a little surprised.

"Well, they taught us to waltz at school," she told him, "But somehow that's not quite how I picture this event on Saturday."

"No," he agreed, "I see what you mean."

There was a moment's pause.

"Imagine Trixie doing a waltz," he told her, a smile on his face, "Or Chummy."

"They'd be bored, and frightened out of their wits," she replied, laughing a little, "From what I've heard Chummy's quite a sight to be seen when she dances anyway."

He smiled at her.

"Then you have nothing to worry about," he told her, "Even if you're a sight too. We'll be four sights; you, me, Peter and Chummy."

She smiled in return, but still it did not seem to convince him that she was altogether at ease.

"Would you like to put on a record and have a practice now?" he asked her, apparently reading her mind, "Would it make you feel better?"

"Yes, please," she nodded enthusiastically.

Smiling at her encouragingly, he moved quickly to the corner of the room to where the wireless stood. He fiddled with the dial until he fond some music that they could dance to.

"Now, just follow me," he told her, taking her hand, "I'll keep you upright."

"Where did you learn to dance?" she asked him, as they moved, when they had got used to it enough to be quite comfortable.

"I didn't really," he told her, "I always just make it up."

"Then how can you teach me?" she asked him.

"But you're doing it, aren't you?" he asked her.

And so she was. She was dancing quite happily along as a vibrant and quite quick song played, and not having too much difficultly. She smiled at him incredulously.

"It's all about confidence," he told her, taking hold of both her hands again, "Thinking you can do it. Like learning to walk. And not minding if you look a fool."

She laughed.

"No, I don't really mind that," she conceded happily

"Good," he told her taking her hands and spinning her round, "Just as well."

The song ended, and a much slower one started to play. They slowed too, stepping closer together, moving slowly as one unit in small circles. She felt her breath, which had been a little ragged from dancing so energetically calm again, and she let out a gentle sigh as she rested her head against his shoulder. She felt the gentle pressure of his chin resting in her hair, the soothing sound of his breath near her ear, and her eyes fell shut as they turned.

"We're going to be alright," he told her, and she sensed he did not just mean at the dance.

"Yes," she agreed, feeling herself smile.

So wrapped up in each other, neither of them noticed when Sister Julienne hovered for a moment in the doorway, intending to come into the sitting room. Catching sight of the young couple, she stopped abruptly, taken aback. But then, her face relaxed into a smile, her hand rested gently on the door frame, watching the young couple dance for a moment. Then she smiled once more, and moved off.

**Please review if you have the time.**


	4. Chapter 4

**An anonymous reviewer requested a scene like this and I was dying to write something like this anyway, so I did. I hope you like it. Thank you for your reviews so far. **

"Right, I think you can step down now," Chummy told her, carefully removing the white length of cloth that had been wrapped around her waist, being careful of the pins and turning away from where Bernadette stood perched on the sitting room footstool to return to her beloved sewing machine.

Rather comically, even standing on the stool, Bernadette still could not comfortably look at Chummy on eye level. She watched her go, a little dismayed, wondering if Chummy realised that she had left half of her creation behind.

"Chummy, she's still got the top half on," Cynthia told her, getting up to help Bernadette out of what was to become the top half of her wedding dress.

"Oh, gracious, sorry!" Chummy returned, "My mind was entirely caught up with the skirt! I hardly noticed at all."

"That's quite alright," Bernadette told her; her arms freed from their white satin confines, she stepped down of the stool and put her dress back on over her slip and stockings.

Unoccupied, Trixie lay with her feet up on the settee, her hands propped behind her head, having been absolutely forbidden to smoke in case it in anyway damaged the whiteness of the dress.

"I think it's safe to say that you're going to be the best-dressed bride in Poplar," she told her, "I'm thoroughly jealous. That is," she remarked with a slightly sly little smile, "If our Chummy doesn't forget to stitch your dress together."

"I really am dreadfully sorry!" Chummy told them, "I can't think what's got into me. I suppose that at the moment I'm just rather tired."

"Why don't you have a rest?" Cynthia asked her, "Have your Horlicks."

"No, I've got to press on," Chummy insisted, "Or else we'll have to sent Bernadette down the aisle in my old skirt suit and that won't do at all."

"Have a rest, Chummy," Bernadette told her, "My dress can wait, I'm sure you'll finish it. I can't blame you for being tired, what with your little girl to look after."

"Do you need to be getting back?" Jenny asked her, bringing some Horlicks in from the kitchen for her.

"I'll stay for a bit," Chummy replied, "She's at Peter's mother's until after tea and he's fetching her on the way home from work."

"There's some for you too," Jenny told Bernadette, passing her the other mug she was carrying.

"Thank you," Bernadette replied.

They were all quiet for a few moments, all of them taking drinks at intervals, and settling down into a contented silence after what had been a long and tiring day.

They heard a sound at the door, and Jane came in to join them.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

"We're just having a rest before Chummy tires herself out," Jenny told her, "There's still some hot milk left in the pan; make yourself a drink if you want to."

"It's just like old times, isn't it?" Cynthia reflected, once Jane had returned from the kitchen with her Horlicks, "With Chummy back."

"It's better now, I should say," Chummy corrected her, smiling, "Because now Jane's here and we don't know what we'd do without her, and because Sister Bernadette's-... well, less of a sister now," she smiled apologetically for her mistake, "It's more fun with you here," she told her, "Even if you do have me slaving away at my sewing machine like a princess in a fairytale."

"Only she's soon to be cruelly whisked away from us," Trixie complained, "To be carried off for marriage; to be claimed as a wife and mother."

"You're just jealous because nobody wants to marry you," Jenny told her, grinning a little.

"Of course I am," Trixie replied bluntly, "The rest of us spend half of our lives trying to catch the eye of a half-decent chap and Sister Bernadette manages to find herself one without as much a batting an eyelid."

"Speaking for myself, I was forced to run my half-decent chap over with my bicycle," Chummy reminded the assembled group, "And _many _an eyelid was batted!"

Everyone laughed; that was certainly a day that would not be erased from the memory of Nonnatus House for a long time.

"Dr. Turner is a _very_ decent man," Cynthia observed to the room at large, inadvertently catching Bernadette's eye for a moment, and flushing slightly.

However, Bernadette smiled, and answered kindly, "I'm glad you think so."

"We'd hardly let you go if he was anything less," Jenny told her with a smile, and again there was general assent in the room, "I know Sister Julienne wouldn't have."

Bernadette was quiet, unable to think of how she could respond to their kind words, and only smiled in return, taking another sip of her drink.

"You're going to have a simply marvellous time," Trixie assured her confidently, "You're going to have a rather dishy husband-..."

"A kind husband, with a good job," Jenny added quickly, hoping to broaden the picture she sensed that Trixie was about to paint.

"And a stepson who simply adores you," Chummy told her, "I overheard him at Cubs telling his little friends about his new mother. He sounded as proud as punch about you."

Bernadette had to admit she was pleasantly surprised, and a little touched by the idea. She found it was rather a difficult thing to imagine but that made the thought that it was true all the nicer.

"Timothy is a very dear little boy," she told them, "And just the right amount of trouble too."

"I remember," Trixie remarked, "He sent you a dead butterfly when you were in the Sanatorium."

"He has a very active mind," Bernadette replied, aware that now it was her boasting proudly of her stepson, and felt he had quite earned it.

"Quite like his father," Trixie remarked lightly.

"Do you think you'd like to have children of your own?" Jane asked her, surprising them all a little with her unprecedented boldness, though the question itself was posed unassumingly.

"Yes," Bernadette answered after a moment, "I'd like that very much. But," she added after a moment, "I think it would be best to see how I get on with Timothy first."

"Excellent plan," Chummy told her, "I myself should have been very glad of a little more gentle initiation!"

"I imagine you'll both be quite comfortable with a baby," Cynthia told her reassuringly, "After all, between the two of you, you must have delivered and cared for practically all of the babies in the parish."

"I can't imagine it's quite the same, Cynthia, when you're the one having the baby," Trixie told her, smiling.

Once again they all looked to Chummy.

"Certainly not!" she affirmed, "Two experiences could not be more different if they tried."

"Oh, but hang all of that," Trixie told them, "It's the bit that comes before the baby that we're really interested in. Has he kissed you yet?"

"Trixie!" Jenny exclaimed in mild admonishment, "You can't ask questions like that!"

"I'd ask you or Cynthia or Chummy," she replied, "And you generally answer. So why not Bernadette too?"

Jenny was about to open her mouth to say something else, when Bernadette decided it could do no harm to save Trixie from further scolding.

"Yes, he has," she answered simply.

There was suddenly an air of great excitement in the room.

"Where?" Trixie asked, almost unable to hide her glee.

"We haven't always been in the same place when he's done it," she replied smartly.

"Don't be such a tease," Trixie told her, "Was it on the mouth?"

"Sometimes."

"So he's done it more than once?" Cynthia asked.

"Of course he has," Trixie told her, "If it was going to be nothing more than long looks and gentlemanly behaviour then she might as well have stayed a nun!"

At that point, everyone, even Bernadette, seemed to want to fall about laughing.

"Trixie!" Jenny told her, while laughing, "You are awful!"

"And I think you're a dreadful prig, Jenny Lee, if you haven't at least wondered about this!"

"So where are you going to spend your wedding night?" Cynthia asked, seeming to decide that if they were going to pursue this line of conversation, she should probably try to lead it into a vaguely safe region of its territory.

"We're going to be at home," Bernadette replied, "Timothy's uncle's going to take him out of London to go camping for a few days."

"So have you been reading up?" Jenny asked her, with a slight smile on her face.

"Reading up?" Trixie repeated, a look of horror on her face, "I hope you mean that as the most appalling euphemism and not literally! What need she read up, when she has friends like us?"

"It can be difficult to ask questions like that out loud," Cynthia told her, a little warningly, "And especially to you, Trixie."

Trixie shrugged, as if to say that she didn't see how, but did not argue.

"Well," she asked Bernadette, "Have you been _reading up_?"

"It's difficult to be unfamiliar with the procedure," Bernadette told her, a gentle smile on her lips to show that she did not mean it as a rebuke, "Being a midwife."

Most hooted with laughter at her reply, but Trixie fixed her with a more serious look.

"You're not nervous are you?" she asked, her eyes narrowed a fraction.

Slowly, Bernadette inclined her head a little.

"A little bit," she confessed.

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?" Cynthia asked, suddenly panicked.

"I asked if she was nervous, not stark raving bonkers," Trixie reminded her.

"There's no need to be nervous," Jenny told her kindly.

"Oh, absolutely not," Chummy agreed, "Personally, I've never seen why we're told to close our eyes and think of England."

There were a few barely stifled laughs at that remark.

"Oh, Chummy," Jenny told her, "You are a hoot!"

"Glad to be of service," Chummy replied.

"Don't be frightened," Jane told her. This time, she surprised them into quiet, all looking at her curiously. She looked a little anxious to suddenly find all eyes fixed on her, "Marrying Dr. Turner will make you happy, and you shouldn't be frightened of what'll make you happy. You should try not to be anyway."

There was a moment's pause.

"That makes a jolly good lot of sense," Chummy decided.

Bernadette smiled at Jane, slightly to the edge of the room.

"Thank you," she replied softly, "I'll remember that."

Jane flushed a little, and nodded kindly.

They all looked round as they saw Sister Julienne appear in the doorway.

"I just thought I'd look in before the silence," she told them all.

"Sorry," Jenny told her, "We'll remember to be quiet for you."

"It's alright," Sister Julienne, "It's good to see preparations under way. Nearly time now," she remarked, looking kindly at Bernadette.

"Yes," Chummy announced, "I'll crack on and finish the skirt before I go home. I'll feel better if I do."

Apart from her, they were all quite still for a moment, watching Sister Julienne.

"Such a happy time," she said quietly, almost to herself, then, to Bernadette, "We are all so happy that God has sent this for you."

"Yes," Bernadette replied, "I am too."

**Please review if you have the time. **


	5. Chapter 5

"Not long to go now," Sister Julienne observed, her hand resting on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, as she regarded the haphazard assembly of various boxes and dishes on the kitchen table, which was presently the centre of all activity in Nonnatus House.

Cynthia glanced up at the clock on the wall; diverting her attention for a moment from organising service sheets.

"Seventeen hours," she confirmed.

"Well, there's still a lot to be done in those hours," Sister Evangelina reminded them both, sounding a little churlish, "And I don't doubt that there will be right up until the last minute."

"What can I do now?" Sister Julienne asked, sensing that the other nun's temper might be wearing a little thin. Though Sister Evangelina had- none too ecstatically- said to her that she had come round to the idea of Bernadette getting married, Sister Julienne suspected that any harassment that the arrangements caused her might well cause some of her earlier misgivings to resurface.

"Have made sure the wedding present is wrapped and hidden?" Sister Evangelina asked her.

"Yes, Sister," Sister Julienne told her, restraining a sigh- that had, after all, been what she had been told to do- "It's back under the chest of drawers in my bedroom."

"Then you can start making the bouquets up," Sister Evangelina instructed.

"I thought that was what Nurse Franklin did this afternoon," Sister Julienne replied.

"She did the bridesmaid's bouquets," Sister Evangelina explained, with as much paitence as she could muster, which, it had to be said, did not sound like a great deal, "The ones for the tables are all still to do. And be careful not to overdo it on the first few; Fred could only grow so many flowers and they'll have to stretch."

Deciding not to argue, Sister Julienne fetched the large bucket of flowers from the corner of the room and the box of new vases which had been squeezed into the crockery cupboard, and settled down to get to work.

"Where's Sister Monica Joan?" Cynthia asked.

"She's in her room, resting," Sister Julienne replied, "She's been cooking rose petals for us to throw at the bride all afternoon. I think she's quite tired out. But she wanted to do something-..."

"And it's better than her trying to help us now," Sister Evangelina added, not sounding unkind but only tired, "I'm muddled enough as it is without her to think of."

"Sister Monica Joan tries her best," Sister Julienne judged fairly, "But perhaps she is not always conducive to keeping things organised."

"I think she's looking forward to tomorrow," Cynthia remarked.

"I think we all are," Sister Evangelina replied stoutly, "It'll be a long time since we've had such a fine wedding in Poplar."

Though the bride and groom were being by no means extravagant- just as Chummy's had been, the wedding was going to be at All Saints Church with the reception in the church hall and nothing unnecessary had been ordered- no expense had been spared. Plenty of food and drink had been ordered and everything that was needed was new and of fine quality, from the table cloths to the bridesmaids' dresses; Dr. Turner had made sure of that.

"Dr. Turner has gone to great lengths to make sure that Bernadette has everything she could want," Sister Julienne observed, "He has been generosity itself."

"It's a good job there aren't more like him about," Sister Evangelina observed, "Or I think we'd see an even sharper decline in our order's numbers."

Cynthia giggled, but Sister Julienne shot a sharp look at Sister Evangelina.

"I hope, Sister, you don't mean to imply that Sister Bernadette is marrying Dr. Turner for his means alone," she told her, "You know as well as I that her life in the order was secure. Besides, I truly believe she loves him, nothing else could have made her doubt her vocation."

Sister Evangelina looked mildly taken aback.

"I meant nothing of the sort," she replied, quite calmly.

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry, Sister," Sister Julienne told her after a moment, "I know you didn't. I think I must be rather tired."

"I think we all are," Cynthia observed diplomatically.

"It's all in a good cause," Sister Evangelina observed, then, to Sister Julienne, "No harm done."

"Yes," Sister Julienne remarked, going on with her flowers, "A very good cause. I do believe they're going to be very happy together."

"I think they're very happy now," Cynthia told them both, and when they turned theirs heads to her interest, "Trixie has been rather quizzing her on the subject."

"Then I think, perhaps, I'd better not hear," Sister Julienne remarked, "Knowing Nurse Franklin's usual line of questioning."

Cynthia barely suppressed a smile.

"It's alright," she told them, "She didn't get very far. Bernadette proved rather a tougher nut to crack than Jenny or I ever do. But our impressions were very favourable," she concluded, "In the happiness stakes."

"And that's all we can ask for," Sister Evangelina decided.

"I should say," came Chummy's voice from the door, "Here here to that!"

"If you've come to help you can get to work on the bunting," Sister Evangelina told her, "Before it gets properly dark I want you and Nurse Lee to go out into the street and put it up. You two are the only one's tall enough to reach. And Sister Julienne will help you, if you can't manage."

"Sadly, I'm not, just at the moment," Chummy replied, "I'll do it once Jenny's out of her dress."

"Her dress?" Sister Evangelina questioned.

Chummy made rather a grand step out of the kitchen doorway.

"I present the bride and bridesmaids," she told them proudly.

They were all quite still for a moment, completely caught short by the sight of Bernadette in her white dress- with a full, calf-length skirt, elegant shoulders, a gently squared neckline and sleeves which descended halfway down her forearms, tapering gracefully off to reveal her wrists. At the moment her hair was not dressed in any way and simply fell down over her shoulders. She was wearing clear stockings and the white shoes she would be wearing tomorrow. Her glasses winked a little in the light as she stood, looking a little nervous. She looked astoundingly beautiful.

"I told you once that I never wanted you to change," Sister Julienne told her quietly, watching her closely, her voice so personal that everyone else felt almost as if they were intruding on a private moment between the two women, "But I cannot be sorry for the improvement."

"You look very nice," Sister Evangelina judged concisely.

"We're going to curl her hair tomorrow," Trixie interjected from behind her, "And see if we can tempt her into a bit of make up."

"Not too much mind," Sister Julienne told her, "She looks just nice like that."

"No, not too much," Jenny agreed.

"You both look very smart too," Sister Evangelina told Trixie and Jenny, who were wearing their pale pink bridesmaids' dresses.

"Smart?" Trixie repeated pretending to be affronted, "I feel simply divine in this! The material must have cost him a fortune!" she exclaimed, sounding very impressed.

"We were saying before, Dr. Turner has been very kind indeed," Sister Julienne told her, smiling at Bernadette, who smiled gratefully back.

"You and Jane will have to try your dresses on later," Chummy told Cynthia, "She's in the garden with Fred at the moment."

"Just give me a minute," Cynthia told her, working on place cards now.

"Yes, and now we've seen how nice you all look go and take those dresses off before they get spoiled," Sister Evangelina instructed, "You must must be mad, bringing them into the kitchen. Then, Nurse Lee, you and Nurse Noakes are going to do the bunting!"

Just at that moment, the telephone rang. It was comparatively unusual for the one in the kitchen to go; it had a different number and was only know to personal callers at Nonnatus House.

"I expect it'll be Peter wondering when I'm going to be home," Chummy told them, crossing to answer it, "Hello, darling."

"Hello, Nurse Noakes."

"Oh, hello, Dr. Turner," there was a slight pause, "I am sorry."

There was an almost unbelievably tense pause around the room, suddenly struck up at the mention of the groom's name; most of them torn between falling about laughing at Chummy's mistake and excitement at wondering.

"It's quite alright," he told her, "Do you think it would be alright if I spoke to Bernadette?"

"But, Dr. Turner, you jolly well know that you're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding," she admonished, quite seriously, "It's supposed to bring on the most dreadful bad luck!"

"But I wouldn't see her," he pointed out gently, "I'd only be speaking to her. Do you think that counts?"

"I don't know," Chummy replied, then, to the room at large, "I say, does anybody know if the bad luck still counts if he only speaks to her, and can't see her?"

"I suspect not," Sister Julienne replied, smiling kindly, "Give the phone to Bernadette."

"Sister Julienne says you're alright," she informed her, "I'll put her on for you," passing the receiver to Bernadette.

"Hello," she said quietly into the phone, and then, a little more loudly and pointedly, "Everyone's listening."

"Girls, go and put your proper clothes back on," Sister Julienne told them, "And then we'll go and put the bunting out."

"They're going now," she told him, "Sister Julienne's keeping them busy with bunting."

She almost heard the smile in his voice.

"I'd have come and done that," he told her.

"You've been so very kind already," she told him, "You've done enough. Anyway, you can't be here because you can't see me with my wedding dress on."

There was a slight pause.

"What's it like?" he asked.

"You'll have to wait and see," she told him, "Not long now."

"No," he replied happily, "Not long."

"Why did you ring up?" she asked him, "Not that I mind."

"I don't know," he confessed, "We won't be courting the next time we see each other."

"No," she agreed, "We won't."

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm thinking of," he told her, "I'm thinking of you, and I love you."

She smiled, her cheeks flushing a little, hoping Sister Evangelina and Cynthia, who was still at the table, could not hear.

"I love you too," she replied, "I'm looking forward to tomorrow."

"I'm glad," he replied, "I'm very excited too, and so is Timothy. He won't go to bed, he says he won't be able to sleep."

She laughed.

"Good for him," she replied, "Let him stay up late."

"I don't want him to be worn out for tomorrow," he told her.

"He's a young boy," she reminded him gently, "He'll bounce."

"You're right of course," he replied, and she heard him give what sounded like a small happy sigh, "You're going to be so good at this."

"We'll just have to wait and see about that," she told him, though trying not to beam.

"I know you will."

"I love you," she told him feeling bold.

"Oh, stop all of that soppy nonsense!" Sister Evangelina called from the table, "You'll have the rest of your lives for all of that, there's no reason for me and Nurse Miller to hear it!"

He obviously heard it from at the other end of the phone, and she heard him laugh.

"Alright," he replied, "But I love you too."

"I know," she replied, "See you tomorrow."

**Please review if you have the time.**


	6. Chapter 6

Bernadette stood just by the door of car, in her wedding dress, brushing the last of the rose petals that Sister Monica Joan had liberally bestowed out of her hair. All of their wedding guests were still on the stairs of the church waving. Beaming, she waved back up at them.

"You haven't thrown your bouquet!" Trixie called down to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Here we go," she called back, pitching the flowers straight in the direction of her and Cynthia. Somehow, though, Jenny almost managed to catch them and all three of them, making a bit of a scrap for them, and they fell straight into Jane's hands.

Struck by great surprise, she held completely still for a moment, and then a small disbelieving smile spread across her lips. Bernadette smiled back up at her, and applauded with the rest of the crowd.

"We had better be on the telephone to the Reverend Appleby-Thornton!" Trixie exclaimed gleefully, and everyone laughed, even Jane.

Bernadette caught sight of her husband, who was shaking hands with his brother, whom she had been introduced to earlier.

"Come on, get yourselves into the car," Sister Evangelina called, "Then we can all get to the church hall and have something to eat."

Everyone started to move down the side of the steps to begin walking there. Bernadette was about to murmur to her husband that it was alright, he could take his time, when she felt a hand on her arm. Turning, she found herself face to face with Sister Julienne. Not speaking for a moment, the two women exchanged a smile.

"I truly am very happy for you," Sister Julienne told her, "You look very beautiful."

"Thank you, Sister," Bernadette told her, "Thank you for everything. I mean it. I could not have done this without you."

"We all helped," Sister Julienne told her modestly.

"I don't mean that," Bernadette replied gently, "You know I don't. I'd have never been brave enough to do this without you. I owe all my happiness to you."

"You owe it to God," Sister Julienne replied, "But I know it makes Him happy. I believe he made the world for days like this."

Bernadette smiled. For some reason she wanted to cry. Sister Julienne seemed able to tell, and gently, assuredly, extended her arms and drew Bernadette to her.

"I'll miss you, Sister," she told her quietly.

"We'll all miss you," Sister Julienne replied, her voice straining a touch "_I _will miss you." They simply held each other for a moment, and then Sister Julienne said, her voice unusually shaky, "I wish I could have given you away. These years together... you've been like a daughter. You always will be."

"I'll still be working here," Sister Bernadette murmured, as much for her own benefit as Sister Julienne's, "You'll see me every day."

"I know," Sister Julienne released her, surveying her from arm's length, a kind look in her eye, and giving a sniff, "And I consider that a great blessing."

She sensed her husband hovering by her elbow, waiting for her, and she turned to him.

"Come on, into the car with you both," Sister Julienne told them, "They'll all be at the Church Hall by now and waiting for you."

"Won't you come in the car with us, Sister?" he asked her, "And save yourself the walk?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," she replied, "You both need a moment together. I'll be alright, it won't take me long."

"See you there, Sister," he told her, opening the car door for his wife and giving her a grateful smile.

"Take good care of her," she told him.

"I will," he replied, getting into the car after Bernadette, "Don't worry about that."

They sat close beside each other, holding hands in the car. Fred was in the front driving, but he seemed sufficiently occupied with the road not pay them much attention. They only had a few moments before they would be engulfed by the happiness of their guests once more.

"You look beautiful," he whispered to her, "You're incredible."

She looked at him sideways, just catching his eye, and felt herself flush a little.

"I'll have to tell Chummy you liked the dress," she told him.

"_You're _beautiful," he whispered, "The dress only helps."

She looked straight ahead, pressing the unstoppable smile together between her lips for a few moments, then conceding defeat, bowing her head and letting it break across her lips, closing her eyes for a second. She thought she might be too happy to even contemplate.

"I love you," he told her, "Mrs. Turner."

She turned her head back in his direction, meeting his eyes fully this time, beaming.

"I love you too," she replied.

They leant in and their lips met, briefly, gently. She smiled against his mouth, loving the feeling of being close to him. Their fingers had laced snugly together, and they were each holding on tightly.

For a moment, she bowed her head again, resting her forehead against his chin.

"I didn't know I could love a human being like this," she confessed, very quietly, "I didn't know it was possible."

"I'll bet you didn't know a human being could love you like this either?" he asked her very softly, raising his free hand to her cheek, brushing her face.

He felt her shake her head.

"Just let me show you, my love," he told her, "Today, tomorrow, for the rest of our lives."

The car slowed to a standstill and the engine fell silent. She was quiet until Fred got out of the front door and closed it behind himself.

"Yes," she whispered back, "Thank you."

"It's alright," he told her, "You don't ever need to thank me. It's all I want to do. Now. Ever."

Fred opened the door for at his side of the car, and he got out to offer her his hand. She held out her left hand, and they both caught sight of the wedding ring on her finger. She glanced up and met his eyes, and her heart seemed to trip up for the tiniest of moments, and they felt like the only two people in the world.

And then, all at once, the noise of their friends all waving to them engulfed her again. And she was so very happy, even more than a few minutes ago, the last time she had seen them.

**End.**

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